Boys
by Confessed Geek
Summary: They were never experiments to me; no matter how hard W.I.C.K.E.D tried to make it that way. To me they were always just boys. Beautiful and ridiculously human boys. They were the embodiment of everything humanity had lost and so desperately needed back. I shouldn't pick favourites...but I did.


**You guys may not recognize my Pen-name, but I am the author of _Can't Forget Everything. _To my readers, I'm sorry for the wait on that story and hope I can update in the next month or so.**

**Anyway, I hope you guys will enjoy this one-shot. **

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Maze Runner or any of its amazing characters. But this story in itself and its narrator are mine.**_

* * *

_"Even Death has a heart." Death, The Book Thief._

I remember each and every one of their births. All of them were bright eyed and confused. Some of them cried; while the other's just looked surprised, as if they didn't think they would come into the world so soon.

Their smiles and laughs brought one to my lips, and I couldn't help but feel a stab of envy when their mother's held them in their arms.

That envy quickly changed to pity as I watched the world slowly go to hell. More often now, with a heavy heart I have to leave to do my duty. Hating that I know I have the right to fear for the children's safety.

As my visits become fewer, the more they seem to grow. I still watch over them all, but now I always find myself visiting a select few.

James is such a lovely boy; with golden hair that falls over big dark brown eyes. His voice is different than the others; smoother, sweeter, just like his soul.

Joseph is his opposite; dark hair, dark skin with a deeper, booming voice. I think he could be a leader one day.

Brandon is barely three, but he already speaks a lot. He runs around with a smile on his round face, and is kind to all he meets.

Lee is mischievous, with a smart mouth to match. No matter how bad a day it was, he always manages to make me laugh.

Colin is so curious, brown eyes studying everything he sees. His wonder and excitement, makes me think the world may be alright again someday.

My boss calls them my favourites, and I don't disagree. They snuck into my cold heart and stubbornly held their places, a feat few achieve.

So when the people in white coats come knocking at each of their doors, I stand beside them with an arm wrapped protectively around. I watch their parents tell them to go, with tears threatening to spill. And because I know they fear their infected minds will put an end to my boys' lights, I can forgive them for letting them go.

What I can't forgive is what the so called 'scientists' do. They slowly try to strip away my boys' identities, sparing not even their names.

James becomes Newt.

Joseph; Alby.

Brandon is Chuck.

Lee is now Minho.

Colin is changed to Thomas.

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. The names may as well be numbers for what they mean. My boys' have become test subjects, expendable for W.I.C.K.E.D's needs. To find a cure for their own stupid mistake.

So I watch with growing anger as they force Colin to make the Maze. I refuse to call any of them something less than their true name. A girl they call Teresa helps him, her real name being Deedee. I am grateful that she makes things easier on Colin, gives him a reason to smile. Although at the same time I find myself wishing I could smack her for believing the scientists' lies and making him believe them too.

* * *

I grow increasingly busy as the years go by; the disease they call the Flare is spreading and taking more lives. W.I.C.K.E.D grows increasingly frantic, and within a month they send Joseph to the Maze.

He is alone and frightened, but he is brave. My hate for W.I.C.K.E.D grows as I realize he has forgotten what he's here for. So I watch over him as he starts to build what he begins to call the Glade, torn between resentment and gratitude when the next month comes, and with it, another boy.

He calls himself Winston, although I remember his real name is Daniel. He can recall nothing of the outside world either and it gives me a feeling of unease.

* * *

The doors close every night, but I hear the horrible groaning that echoes from there. When I see what W.I.C.K.E.D created I want to tear them apart. Grievers is what the increasing number of boys start calling them; and I pray they never learn how true the name is. The screams and wails that come from the monstrous creatures are the sounds I hear every day when I see the outside world.

In light of this discovery I go to the room where Colin is watching over a dozen screens showing the Glade. I see his eyes fixate on Daniel and Joseph, and he draws his knees to his chest, biting his lip. I take my seat beside him as he starts to shake with shame, shushing him gently and hugging him to my chest.

After he quiets down, I go to visit James; brushing his golden hair from his forehead and kissing tear stained cheeks. I know he will be going up into the Maze soon, so I whisper that he must be brave. I know better than to make promises that are not up to me to keep.

I stand to go see Lee, pausing as I hear James's startled gasp. In concern I turn and see his wide eyes on me. Holding my breath, I stay very still…and then he looks away; brown eyes searching the room. I smile, bittersweet, and continue on my way. But before I leave the room, I think hear him whisper softly: "Hello?"

Lee, as expected, is glaring at the wall. He mutters about the 'stupid creators' and the unfairness of it all. I sit and listen to his complaints, finding myself agreeing with every single one. He soon grows tired of his complaining and he falls asleep sprawled on the ground.

The next day I can't help but smile when I hear him asking: "Who the hell covered me with a blanket?"

Brandon is the youngest of my favourites, which is probably why his spirit isn't as diminished. He does miss his parents _so _much. But he is aware that other's miss theirs too. Perhaps that is why he always finds a reason to smile, even in this cold, unloving place. And sometimes in doing so, he manages to make a smile tug at the older boys' lips.

* * *

My first call to the Maze doesn't shock me as it probably should have. A boy they renamed George stands fearfully against the wall just outside the Glade. When I reach him, his eyes go wide and I offer him my hand. Smiling softly as he reaches out hesitantly, asking quietly: "Are you going to take me away?"

I nod my head, still smiling. "Yes, Adam."

His eyes widen before he smiles and takes my outstretched hand. Together, we start to walk away from all his past pain, but he glances back once to ask: "Will they be alright?"

"In the end, whatever theirs may be, yes. I think they will be." I tell him honestly. He seems to understand, for he nods in acceptance.

* * *

Throughout the months I visit the Maze ten times more for my job. Those ten, no matter how much I loathe the fact, are what has become expected from the Maze from me.

But the eleventh is unexpected, and therefore I find it well within my rights to try to prevent it.

As James climbs the wall, I yell for him to stop even though I know he cannot hear me. Still I keep shouting, because I am selfish and I don't want to see him leave his friends this way.

I think my colleague takes pity on me, because when James falls I hear a single crack that comes from his leg but nothing more. Kneeling next to him, I feel tears well in my eyes for the first time in eons. "Stupid boy…" I breathe, brushing his hair back as he lets out chocked sobs. It's unfair how beautiful he is to me, even in this state.

I stay until Joseph comes and takes him to the Glade, having followed the rocks I always place so that they can find where their friends lay. I stay by James's bedside, humming a long forgotten lullaby as he recovers. Once or twice I stop, breath held upon seeing his brown eyes on me, worried that he sees me. But then his gaze drifts away so I continue singing. When he's healed, I notice the slight limp and thank my colleague. At least now James will have an excuse not to go back into that horrible Maze.

* * *

Brandon comes only a few months after the incident, and by now my patience for the Creators is reaching its limits.

* * *

Colin comes next, and only a day after comes Teresa; the first girl and the last Glader. I do not need her declaration to know things are changing.

* * *

I watch in fear and bitter knowledge as Lee sprints for the closing doors, dragging an unconscious Joseph by his heels. I step through the doors just before Colin decides to do so too. Fighting the urge to smack Lee as he leaves Colin and Joseph vulnerable by the doors and instead look out for Grievers while Colin lifts Joseph up the wall inch by inch.

* * *

I see Colin evade the Grievers in suspense and pride; unable to do much but throw a rock or two to keep most of them distracted.

* * *

When daylight breaks, all three boys still live and I let out a breath of relief. Grinning at the look of shock on James's face when he sees Joseph suspended halfway up the wall due to Colin's handiwork.

* * *

The girl wakes, and the doors stay open. One by one, I take them away.

"Will they be safe?" A young boy of just thirteen named Sean questions me.

All I can say is: "I don't know."

* * *

Sadly my duties take me to other places as Colin starts to figure out the code. But when I do go back, there are five young men waiting, and by the sounds I hear, we will soon be joined by more.

"Hello." I say softly as all the boys' gape in shock. One even rubs his eyes and blinks a few times, probably thinking I'm a mirage.

"Hey." Joseph answers unsurely after a moment and I feel myself smile wistfully as his eyes narrow in scrutinize. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Yes." I respond honestly, aware of three more boys' joining us as he frowns in confusion.

He shuffles, eyebrows furrowing. "From where?"

For a moment I only smile sadly, watching as more boys' join us until our total is twenty. Once they are gathered, I beckon them to follow and it is then that I answer: "Everywhere, Joseph. I've always been near."

His eyes widen, but he does not protest as I lead them out of the Maze and away from their friends.

* * *

He asks to come with me when I feel the tug again. I want to argue, but there is no time, so I allow him to come, wondering how there could more bloodshed already within the half surviving group.

My answer comes when I see Brandon jump in front of Colin and a dagger pierces his chest. Joseph lets out an outraged cry that only I can hear, while Colin's echo through the room as Brandon mumbles his final words to him, and is then utterly still.

Sighing deeply, I cross the room while Colin beats the knife thrower to the ground. I kneel next to Brandon's unmoving form and whisper softly. "C'mon now Brandon, it's time to get up."

And so the boy does; leaving his shell.

"Shuck…this is so weird!" He exclaims, examining his hand for a minute before waving that same hand in front of a random boy's face. When the boy does nothing, not even blink; Brandon chuckles. "But it's kind of cool too."

The sight brings a soft smile to my face, though it falls when I hear Colin's screams in the background. Unseen, unheard, I watch as he runs over, falls to his knees and draws Brandon's shell close. "No! NO! I promised him!" As the girl's hand is shook away, I replace it with my own, seeing Joseph and Brandon's guilt ridden gazes as I tug their breathing friend close. "I promised I'd save him, take him home! I _promised_ him!"

I know he cannot hear me, and I'm not sure it would make a difference if he could, for grief makes it hard for people to listen to even those they _can _see. But still, I hold him close, murmuring softly: "You did all you could; it's not your fault. Just know that he's safe, and he will make it home. In fact, he is going right now. "

Maybe something of those words reached him, but I can't be sure because Colin is selfless. He stands with help from Deedee, visibly trying to shove his pain away. My temper flares as the woman from W.I.C.K.E.D has nerve to say: "All things happen for a purpose; you must understand this."

Oh, I understand perfectly what that means. More than she would ever know. So I also know that, while things to happen for a purpose, that does not make it necessarily a _good _purpose. It also does not make it selfless, or logical…as W.I.C.K.E.D's sole _purpose, _their whole reason for existing, is to find a cure so that they may continue existing.

A cure, that wouldn't even be needed if they hadn't been so damn foolish.

When the men with the guns come I do not flinch, only moving to turn Brandon to my chest so that he doesn't see them shoot the woman and the other Creators into a bloody mess. I watch them as they hurry the remaining Gladers' out of the room, aware with ire that this 'rescue' is all a part of W.I.C.K.E.D's plan.

For Brandon and Joseph though, I try to keep calm, gently turning Brandon and myself away from the scene before I let him go. "Don't look back." I tell him softly, watching him nod shakily in agreement before grabbing my hand. Facing Joseph, I incline my head forward for him to follow us away from here.

He glances once at the rushing Gladers' and then comes, only to stop and stare at the woman who had just been shot now sitting upright with her knees drawn to her chest. "Is…"

"No." I cut him off firmly, eyeing the woman with a small dose of pity. "She isn't coming with us."

Joseph frowns: "I thought…"

"She is not my responsibility. A colleague of mine will come for her soon enough." I answer swiftly, but softly. After all, how can I be angry at him for trying to understand?

For a moment, Joseph looks like he is about to ask another question. But then, he closes his mouth and stands with me and I start to lead him and Brandon back to where their friends are waiting. Before we leave the room though, I glance once behind my shoulder to see a handsome young man with black hair and dark brown eyes tossing the woman over his shoulder. Why we have these human shapes have always been a wonder. He meets my gaze, giving me a single nod and a small wistful smile which I return in understanding before leading my boys away.

* * *

Nine more boys and a few girls join me within the span of a few weeks, all victims of the Scorch.

A part of me wishes to wreak havoc on everything involved with W.I.C.K.E.D, but I know they will destroy themselves soon enough.

Sure enough, the world that they made like a game of Janga had one to many blocks poked out and starts to crumble again. I'm more busy than ever, even more so than during the World Wars and cannot visit the boys often unless I am needed near them.

When the world finally tumbles, bringing chaos in its wake, I weave among the bodies and lost spirits after my colleague informs me of one I would wish to see personally.

I find him standing among the wreckage, glancing all around and down at his body with his brows furrowed in confusion. His hair glows golden in the sunlight, almost like a halo and I find the sight uncomfortably fitting.

His back is to me, so he does not see me approach. I stop only a foot from him, taking in a breath before greeting: "Hello."

He spins wildly; brown eyes wide with shock as they land on me. He freezes, jaw open slightly before he closes it quickly, still eyeing me in astonishment. "Who…" He glances around him, as if searching for _my _body before facing me again and finishing: "Who are you?"

"Hmm…it's hard to say." I respond honestly, clasping my hands in front of me and holding his inquisitive gaze. "If you're looking for a name, I'm afraid I can't give you one. I never particularly liked any of the ones humans gave me before this mess W.I.C.K.E.D created, and don't even get me started on the descriptions…" I trail off, seeing his brown eyes narrow in curiosity as I finish sincerely: "But I guess, if you have to call me _something,_ you could say that I am something like a guide."

He raises an eyebrow: "A guide?" He repeats, a disbelieving undertone in his accented voice. I remember that I wasn't overly fond of most British accents, finding them quite snobbish too often. Or perhaps that was just because of my anger at them for all the trouble they caused during the Dark Ages.

But there were a few…a very few, I had liked listening to. Shakespeare had been one, the man was wiser than most and his voice portrayed it with a humble confidence most couldn't achieve.

Winston Churchill had been another: The man was a brilliant speaker and a lion at heart during the Second World War, even if he did get a little drunk.

Queen Elizabeth the Second's mother had been stubborn and brave in equal measures. One of the few in the royal family who deserved the title of nobility.

James had quickly been added to that list, as a young boy he never had that snobbish quality I so despised. His voice had been light, if just a tad high filled with so much innocence and child sweetness that it would be a crime_ not _to find it enduring.

Much had changed since those days, including his voice. Although, as he speaks to me now, I find it to be a good change; it's sad how rare those things are today. "A guide to where?" He persists, innocence gone, replaced by deep tones and serious matters.

"I'm afraid I can't point to it on a map. Although, I do believe some of you humans called it Heaven a while back." I note out-loud thoughtfully, looking up at the sky and then at him. "The definitions of it were varied; you people are quite indecisive, and you all love to be right." I laugh quietly, feeling his intense gaze on me rather than seeing it. "But, funny thing is, you were all right in a way. Because what this place called Heaven is, is happiness. And since everybody has different ideas on what happiness is…Heaven is simply what you _want_ it to be, if you've earned the right to be there. I'm simply here to help you on your way."

I finally look directly at him to find myself standing just a foot from him. He looks at me strangely, as if trying to read my thoughts, and then he questions: "You called me a human, as if you aren't one…"

"Because I'm not." I reply honestly, with a slight smile.

He frowns: "But…you _look _human."

"Appearances can be deceiving." I remind him, watching as he bites his lip at the fact.

After absorbing my words, he questions rather suddenly: "Does that make you an angel then?"

"Pardon?" I question in confusion.

"An angel," He repeats. His eyebrows furrowing as he gazes at me intensely. "Like…a spirit that looks after people…" Then his eyes widen, moving as if to step back only to change his mind. "Bloody hell…it was _you. _When…when I broke my leg I heard someone singing…" He freezes, eyes roving over me in disbelief. "The rocks…" He touches his forehead numbly, as if remembering the kisses I placed there years ago. "That night before I went up into the Maze; that was all _you."_

Smiling softly, I can't help but tell him: "Clever boy."

He gapes, fingers still on his forehead as he flounders. "Why me? Why us? Why would you…" He stops, rubbing his hand through his hair, causing it to fall into his face. On instinct I move, brushing it back from his face without so much a thought.

He tenses, but then offers a hesitant smile as I pull back. He has such a beautiful smile…all my boys do. "Colin, Joseph, Lee, Brandon and James…" I murmur thoughtlessly, gently brushing his hair back again barely noticing when his smile falters, replaced with shock upon hearing his true name. "I shouldn't pick favourites; it always hurts more. But you boys…you are all so bright, so starry eyed, yet so different in your own ways. All of you, _so ridiculously human _when most seemed to have forgotten what that meant." His breath catches as I glance up at him with a soft smile. "You're all everything that humanity had forgotten it needed. A beautiful mess of wonder, kindness, innocence, drive and bluntness…."

My hand cups his cheek, and he leans into it, eyes still on me in awe. But I was looking at him with more: "How could not help you, when W.I.C.K.E.D tried to make you all seem so expendable?"

His brown eyes are wide, a hurricane of emotions out plainly for me to see. The next breath he takes in is shaky, and his lower lip trembles just a bit. It's to be expected of course, he never knew someone cared about him and his friends…he thought it was just them looking out for each other.

What he does next however…is a different story all together.

His kiss is warm and sudden, and I feel a calloused hand grip the back of my hair in desperation. I am still, stunned beyond all comprehension. I have kissed humans before, often bestowing pecks of understanding and sorrow on their cheeks and mouths. Sometimes they would kiss my cheeks in thanks, grateful acceptance which had been happening more as late.

Twice, one for each World War, a single soldier no older than eighteen asked for a kiss. I could hardly say no.

But never had a human, especially one such as James, _kissed me_ without cause or permission.

It was impulsive…it was wrong, so, so wrong…and such an utterly _human _thing to do_._

I nearly laugh, but my mouth is rather occupied, so I settle for a smile, resting my hands on his shoulders.

I should have expected this. After all; all my favourites were boys.

Although, I won't deny that I enjoy the occasional surprise.

* * *

His cheeks are still red when I go to see Deedee. Before she can so much as speak, I hug her with a whisper of thanks. She saved Colin, many times, but this time it had cost her the chance of being with him. Giving that up made her braver than many others. So, I offer her to join us, for James wishes to see his friends again.

She shakes her head, biting her lip and rubbing her arms. I understand completely; even if they're safe and happy, nothing hurts worse than seeing your love in the arms of someone else.

So, I lead her to the other Gladers, who welcome her with open arms. Although as I'm leaving, I notice a man who I remembered took care of her when the whole mess started, whisper her name in disbelief before taking her in his arms.

I go back to James who, bless him, is still blushing as I lead him to where Colin and Lee are. His adorable stammering cutting off when he sees them sitting side by side: safe and very much alive.

His beaming grin and bark of laughter tugs up my own lips: "Bloody stubborn shanks!" He yells, tears of joy streaking down his cheeks as he turns to me. "All that buggin' persistence finally did them some good."

We stand there for a while, watching as the last two living of my favourites in the physical sense, stare up at the sky. Then, Colin starts talking and I notice James's eyes spark with interest when he hears his false name. "Do you think Newt and them are up there somewhere?" He asks Lee quietly, hopefully, _guiltily._

I sigh knowingly at how James stiffens, burying his face in his hands and muttering. "Shuck…I'm so sorry Tommy."

At the same moment, Lee responds with a heavy breath. "I hope so Thomas. I hope so…"

My eyes travel between my three boys; hating the guilt and sorrow that I know will haunt them after the hell they have been through. I breathe slowly, silently pleading for approval from my colleague as I decide something.

In answer, the other Gladers' soon arrive, looking down at Colin and Lee in awe. "Shuck, the shanks made it." Joseph states with a gruff laugh, while Brandon nods with a smug grin.

"Told yea."

James's eyes widen, and he quickly moves to hug his best friend and the young boy, afterwards greeting the others by clasping hands and laughing. Meanwhile, I smile down at the two boys who have jumped to their feet and were staring up at us with slacked jaws.

Laughing, I send them a wave and in doing so I attract the attention of the other Gladers'. Brandon is the first to stand beside me, looking down and waving frantically at Colin. "Hey shanks!" He yells cheerfully, "Don't miss me too much!"

This is encourages the other Gladers to walk forward, calling out their own greetings and wishes as Colin and Lee stare up at them, tears forming in their eyes.

"We're alright shanks!" James yells down, brown eyes bright and large smile. "This lovely angel kept us safe." Seeing him like this, so happy and bright eyed, tempts me to kiss him. But, he beats me to it, pressing one to my cheek quickly in joy before pulling away and looking back to his friends. Missing the smile that tugs at my lips as I shake my head: _Impossible human boy…_

His actions cause some sort of a competition between the boys; all of them trying to get my attention. I laugh, pressing a kiss to Brandon's cheek and then one to Sean's and Adam's. I really shouldn't be encouraging them, but after all the hell they had been through, who was I to tell them no? The older boys are more persistent, always coming around for seconds. Even Joseph taps his cheek smartly, laughing at James's expression.

"I was first." He grumbles, perking up only when I kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Of course you were." I tease, looking down to see Lee grumbling about how everyone else gets a kiss, while Colin gazes at me in shock, touching his cheek gently in remembrance.

Blowing him a kiss, I smile as his cheeks burn a lovely red. "They'll be waiting." The promise is soft, but his eyes brighten with the wonder and hope that first drew me to him as he looks at all his friends who were shoving each other to wave at Lee and him. Grinning and shouting in excitement when they finally waved back.

The sight makes up for the years of despair.

Because even after all trouble W.I.C.K.E.D went through to get rid of their identities, and the Hell they forced them to undergo; they are still ridiculously _humane _boys.

No, I shouldn't pick favourites…

But I'm glad I did.


End file.
